


My Alpha, My Mate

by Voldemort



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-22
Updated: 2012-11-22
Packaged: 2017-11-19 06:40:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,119
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/570331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Voldemort/pseuds/Voldemort
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles fidgets with the cloth covering his privates, adjusting it over and over again just in case it slips and he ends up flashing people. Even though the purpose of the ceremony makes it a moot point, it’s the principle of the thing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Alpha, My Mate

**Author's Note:**

> So if you haven't noticed, I get ideas at the most random times. This one comes when I saw J.Lo's MV that has gypsy theme going on, I can never remember what the song was but I know I liked the gypsy thing, I even named the fic draft gypsy stiles. Enough babble, this was abandoned due to real life but I finally finished it last night.

  
Stiles fidgets with the cloth covering his privates, adjusting it over and over again just in case it slips and he ends up flashing people. Even though the purpose of the ceremony makes it a moot point, it’s the principle of the thing.  
  
One of the women stokes the campfire until it rises high up in the air, marking the start of the ceremony. Stiles follows the group to the designated place facing the campfire, somehow unable to blend in even if he is dab smack in the middle of the gaggle of people. He sticks out like a sore thumb, mostly because people know who he is.  
  
You don’t go around being unrecognised when your dad is the big man on campus. His dad has been the village warrior for as long as he remembers. His clearest memories of his dad is always of him lifting him up every time he comes home, in his hunting gear with his covered dagger  strapped to his hips, smelling of the forest and earth. The fact that he is two years older than everyone kinda makes him noticeable too. Stiles is grateful for every year he has managed to dodge the bullet, refusing to participate and the only association he has with the ritual was only to be a spectator on the sidelines.  
  
Stiles knows the only reason he’s not forced to do it is because of his father’s standing with the elders, a fact that always lead to Stiles consumed with guilt every time he thinks about it, but a little selfish part of his mind is thankful for the exception. He’s not so lucky this year, the councils has rejected his exemption and made him participate. Stiles figures the councils must have sensed the uprising of discontent from the others, questioning the credibility of the council of favouring him just because of the ties he has with the council.  
  
He is so lost in thought he doesn’t realise his fidgeting has him accidentally elbowing the boy next to him, earning him a dirty look and a scoff. He only smiles apologetically and forces his body to stay still. He stares at his toes just so he can concentrate on something, slowly feeling the weight of the stares aimed at him, and the unsubtle murmurs permeating around him. Feeling overwhelmed, he slowly moves to the back of the group, allowing the parting and reassembling of bodies as he makes his way to the back hides him from the public eye.  
  
He leans back against the wall, using it to ground him to earth. He’s thinking of bolting, thinking of running away and never coming back. He’s no expert but eyeing the perimeter, he thinks he will be able to gain a few miles, and if he’s lucky, he’ll have enough time to hide before anyone can catch up to him. His eyes inadvertently falls on his dad, and he realises he can’t do it. His dad notices him looking and gives him an encouraging smile; even with the distance Stiles can still see the sadness in his eyes. He can’t run and shame his father, he doesn’t care what people say about him, he is _not_ a coward.  
  
Soft chatters of the spectators stop suddenly; the tension is so thick it’s almost tangible. Stiles instinctively straightens, and from his vantage point he can see the others in front of him hold their face in the air, sniffing at something. Oh yeah, he forgets to mention, he's apparently the only unmated human in the compound so that's another label tacked to his butt. Obviously with his inferior human nose he doesn't know what's to come, they could be smelling days old rotten vegetables at the dumping site for all he knows. The drum beats after a moment pause and through the gaps Stiles sees a gaggle of well built men walking to the other side of the campfire, all exuding power and strength and through the submissive posture of the people around, Stiles realises that these are the alphas who would choose them.

_Claim him._

 One caught his eye though, the last one of the bunch walking at the end of the line. He’s tall, towering over most of the alphas and kinda looks bigger than everybody else too. Stiles doesn’t know a human body can pack that much muscle before, or even have any right to looks so attractive too. Stiles only recognise three of the alphas in the group, one from his own tribe, Michael, another two, Abraham and Phillip from neighbouring tribes. The rest of them must’ve come from the cities. This year’s turnout must have been better than the previous year’s cause they never get this much alphas before, the most they get was five  and even then it was a rare occasion.

That fact only worsens the dread in his gut, cause you know, if he doesn’t get picked tonight at least he could say he tried and the selection was too big and whatnots, but it’s not. Stiles knows he isn’t much to look at, he’s skinny and too pale and too much of awkward to be even averagely attractive. People may say that he’s just being too hard on himself or in one occasion, just saying it to gain attention but he knows because people have actually told him. Jackson and Erica has said this time and again, and if you are a kid who is mostly alone in his life with a best friend who spends more time mooning over his girlfriend than pay attention to you, you tend to believe them. Especially since no one has even looked at you with interest all of your life, by _both_ sexes.

“Amber, proceed,” one of the councilmen speaks, referring to a scroll. A dark haired girl steps out and at that instant, slow music starts to play. She removes the band binding her hair and let it cascade down her back in wild curls. She starts moving to the middle, for every step she takes her hips begins to sway. The dance is nothing short of erotic, Stiles feels himself blush when one manoeuvre has her looking like she’s fucking an invisible person. Stiles has to avert his eyes when it gets too much, he’s not too much of a prude but some things are better left private. Trying to save himself the embarrassment somehow adds up to his eyes meeting the sizzling hot alpha. The dude isn’t even trying to pretend to pay attention to the girl; his eyes are fixed on _him_.

Stiles suppresses a shudder when his eyes flickers red, his nose twitching and his jaw slightly slack. He is already about to move but at that exact time, Amber is already in front of him, her movement now even more seductive than ever. Stiles guesses he isn’t the only one who thinks the alpha is a bundle of hotness. She starts to move closer, chest thrust to the front and blood red lips pulled back to reveal a flash of fangs. She grabs hold of his neck and basically made a home for her breast against Derek’s, leaning closer to run her nose to the base his neck.

Hot Dude stopped her. Like with his palm on her forehead. Stiles doesn’t know whether he should laugh or be appalled, because that sir, is not a man behave.

Well he _is_ a werewolf, but still.

“No.”

She looks like she wants to protest, but flash of red has her whimpering and going into the arms of the alpha next to Now-Just-Impossibly-Irresistible. That alpha pulls her back and does this silent staring thing with her and Stiles may be wrong but it looks like a conversation is going on right then. They both nod to the councilmen and as the horn is blown, the alpha pulls at her hair, bares her throat and bites her. That apparently, means that she is claimed.

‘Fucking hell,’ Stiles thought, he doesn’t know what to do now. He has nothing to bring to the table, it’s not like he has any tits to shove at them, hell he only has a dick, and not all dudes are okay with having penis shoved in their faces. Even worse, these are the kinds that bite.

“Stiles Stilinski.”

Stiles starts to sweat. His knees start to shake and his throat goes dry, but he braves it anyway and emerges from the group. The alphas’ attention zeroes in on him instantly, noses up the sky and mouth wide opened, some Stiles notes, are even drooling.

‘Eww, Stiles shudders; they look like they aren’t even aware they’re doing it. Frankly speaking, they kinda reminded him when Scott smelled that herb they found growing in the woods, all glazed and worryingly vacant.

 And also, very very _horny_.

 The cue for the music comes, Stiles has no other choice but to go with the flow. He tries to remember what Amber was doing, trying to remember how she swayed her hips, remember the little dip she did and the seductive lip biting trick she used. He tries one sway and it’s awkward. Stiles can physically feel the awkwardness of his limb, even he is embarrassed by himself. He shakes his head and tries again, because no matter how much Stiles can’t take pride in his muscle mass, he has always been flexible. He does one sway, and another, and another. The last one feels natural, so he relaxes and from then on everything feels so much easier.

The closer he gets the higher the collective pleased growl grows. The one on the opposite end seems ready to jump him so he changes his course to go to the other end, where Now-Just-Impossibly-Irresistible is at. His heartbeat increases its tempo and he can feel sweat running the back of his thigh. Oh my god, Stiles really hope he doesn’t reek too bad, how embarrassing is it to have body odour? Stiles stands in front of the alpha, his eyes lock into his red ones, he knows to avert his gaze is to submit and Stiles still has a smattering of defiance in him, he’s not going easy, not even for alphas with tap-able ass. His hands shake as he slowly reaches out his hand to his bare shoulder, but the moment their skin touches, the alpha grabs his wrist, twisting Stiles until his back his tight against his chest and his arms possessively curved around his waist and chest with his fingers spread around his throat, baring it.

“Hmmmm,” he licks at the raised tendons of his tense neck, teeth tracing along until finally biting at where his neck and shoulder meets, “This boys is mine, call it councilmen. Anyone who disagrees, I’ll tear their throat out,” he pauses, “With my teeth.”  Stiles doesn’t doubt it for a second he’ll do it, if the throbbing in his neck is of any indication. The councilman hastily crosses off Stiles name off the scroll, not even bothering with the horn and gives the alpha a nod.

Hot ass basically drags Stiles away from the crowd towards the woods, Stiles flailing behind him, with daddy Stilinski looking confused whether to save his child or be proud of the fact that his child finally bagged a bad ass alpha, . ‘Is he gonna mount me now? This soon?!’ Stiles panics and digs his feet into the earth, trying to stall the inevitable. He might as well as not have tried it with the way the alpha barely acknowledges his effort. He seems to finally found his spot because before Stiles knows it, he’s pinned to the tree and being kissed hard and open wide in the mouth.

“Wow,” Stiles says when their lips separate loudly, “Just wow. I’ve been kissed that hard before, fuck that I’ve never even kissed before,” the alpha lets out a pleased hum at that and goes back to kissing him just as hard as before, Stiles surprises himself how he is totally okay with that, more than okay in fact. Alpha runs his hands all over his skin, exploring and squeezing the flesh of his ass, dangerously close to the hem of his loincloth. The moment Stiles feels the pad of his fingers on the swell of his bare ass he stops his hands from going further and looks at his alpha straight in the eye.

“What’s your name?”

“Derek. Derek Hale.”

“Derek,” Stiles lets the name roll off his tongue, liking the way how right it sounds, how right it fits... his, yes his, werewolf, “My Alpha. My...Mate.”

The growl that follows after is nothing but of pleasure.

There’s no stopping now.

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> uh yeah, so no sexy tiems, but I'm planning it in the future?


End file.
